


Unchained

by MaroonDragon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pirates, Steter - Freeform, this AU is set during the slave trade era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:37:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonDragon/pseuds/MaroonDragon
Summary: Stiles needs to leave the country by slightly less legal means. Pirate Peter Hale is willing to take him on board for a fee, and Stiles has every intention of leaving the ship behind at the next port. As it turns out, there is more to Peter Hale and his crew than he thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiranightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/gifts).



> This one is dedicated to Kiranightshade as they left me an awesome comment on my other story, and I couldn't help but write this story for them. I hope you enjoy it!

“Look, I just need passage on your ship until the next port.  I’m willing to pay for it.” Stiles argued, though the captain’s eyebrows of doom didn’t let up.

“I’m not taking any stowaways.” Derek snapped again.  
  
“I’m not going to just sit back, okay. I can help out on the ship. I know how it works.” Stiles just really needed to get out of this place.  
  
“Just because you can tell the front from the back doesn’t mean you have what it takes to be on a ship, and I have my crew already. If you’re really desperate, feel free to try him.” Stiles followed the pointed finger and groaned.   
  
“You have got to be kidding me. He’s a pirate.” How the man hadn’t gotten arrested yet was beyond Stiles, but the man somehow never got caught with any of the cargo he supposedly had stolen.   
  
“Well, you’re the one trying to get away from here.” Derek Hale clearly did not give a crap about whether Stiles survived said trip.   


It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t have the money, but he wanted to disappear. Stiles had served in the Royal Navy for years alongside his best friend Scott. They had been like brothers. Then Scott’s father decided to step down from his place as king, and suddenly it was goodbye oceans and hello palace. Stiles was still part of his guard, and a close confidant, right up until Deaton arrived.

Deaton was a cryptic fucker, and had been hired to help Scott with all his royal duties as an official advisor. He was the one to arrange a marriage between Scott and the rich trader’s Allison Argent. Now Stiles actually quite liked Allison, but Scott became a lovesick puppy, with Deaton digging his claws in even further. There was no space for two advisors to the crown, and Stiles was pretty sure that the sudden increase in his near death experiences since Deaton arrived was not a coincidence. If he was registered to leave this port on a regular passenger ship, he was pretty sure that Deaton would blow it out of the water just to make sure Stiles was dead.   
  
Had Scott actually shown any care for him, he might have stayed, but the newly crowned king was no longer paying attention to anything Stiles had to say. So he was going to save his own life, and find his way somewhere else. He had enough fighting skills and sailing skills to find work in another navy.   
  
  
“I was wondering when you would find your way to my ship. You’ve tried every other one in this port.” The man was as gorgeous as he was arrogant apparently. He was apparently also highly amused by Stiles as he leaned across the railing.   
  
“Well, given the kind of work you do, I don’t think your ship comes with a very good travel insurance.” Stiles pointed out, taking in the large wolf head at the bow of the ship. An odd choice seeing as most ships usually had deities of some form of another to protect them.   
  
“Actually, my ship would give you more insurance. No one steals from a pirate after all.” Stiles couldn’t help but jump as the man suddenly came down from the ship by rope. Such a show off.   
  
“Yes, as long as you don’t kill everyone in some attempt to steal something.” He countered, refusing to let the man get to him. “Still, I will take my chances with that.”   
  
“And who says I will let you come aboard? I have no interest in becoming a passenger ship.” Stiles was just about to open his mouth, when a voice interrupted them from the docks.   
  
“Let him on Peter. You know we can use the money. He looks healthy enough. He can take Alex’s place.” Right, Chris Argent. Wealthy trader who fathered a daughter only to then run off to become a pirate. If Gerard Argent wasn’t such a terrifying dick, the whole Argent family would have been worthless. Instead, he married the daughter of the son who betrayed him to a king.   
  
“Yes, I do suppose you have some potential scrubbing the deck. Though I do hope you know how to keep your mouth shut. The last person who worked as our little lackey was thrown overboard for tattling. Now, I’m sure you wouldn’t want that to happen to your pretty face.” Peter’s grin reminds Stiles of the wolf at the front of the ship, but before he can change his mind and take his chances with Deaton, his gold purse is already snatched out of his hands. 

* * *

  
The Werewolf is unsurprisingly a well-managed ship. It was the reason why pirates were always so damn hard to catch. If there was mutiny and a lack of care, their ships would be one hell of a lot slower, and a lot less organised in their attacks. Seeing as Stiles had gotten into quite a few fights with them while in the navy, he was well aware of how they operated.   
  
The surprising part of it, is that most of the crew is black. Now it wasn’t unusual for ships to have some black crewmembers. Though those were mostly stuck with the gruesome tasks. The ones that were expendable. Stiles never really felt comfortable with the slave trade. If not violently opposed to it. In a country where their main production was done by slaves, one usually didn’t like to talk about it. Stiles had tried to push Scott towards at least demanding a more human treatment of the slaves, but Deaton had blocked that before there had even been a chance of Scott hearing him.   
  
The crew on the ship are equal though. Yes, Peter runs the ship as captain, but his orders do get challenged by the crew, and it’s clear he holds his position through being liked rather than fear. The fact that he has probably lead them into dozens of battles and still came out the victor also helps. Chris is the quartermaster, and to Stiles’ surprise, the man challenges Peter quite often for the sake of annoying the man. For some reason Peter hasn’t tossed him overboard yet for that constant disrespect. It’s apparently a running joke, that everyone in the crew just takes as normal.   


The person who baffles Stiles the most, is Mason, the Navigators. Navigators are notoriously hard to find. Good ones take years to master the skill of navigating the ships by the use of stars, and they are usually well educated to begin with. Mason still has the welts on his back from when he was a slave. If Stiles ever needed proof that slaves were just as capable humans as their captors were, than this is the proof. If anything, Mason’s almost gentle personality makes him perhaps an even better person than most of Stiles’ acquaintances. He has seen violence and has been discriminated against, and is still kind. Stiles himself, who has seen his own fair share of grief and torment, regular feels like punching other people in the face.

 

The ship is a place of camaraderie, and while Peter and Chris might be in charge, they are there because they are allowed to be. They take their crew’s opinions into consideration when making a decision. Even in the short two weeks that Stiles has been on board, he can tell that these men on board are a strange sort of family. One that Stiles has somehow been roped into. 

* * *

  
“I think this is the only moment of silence that this ship knows.” Stiles commented as he step up on the bridge, taking a spot next to Mason, who was mapping out their course. The night was clear, and with the exception of one or two people on the deck below to keep watch, most of the crew was asleep.   
  
“It has been a quiet time.” Mason hummed. “Don’t worry. We will see action soon. We are reaching the local trade routes within a few days.”   
  
“Can I ask you something?” Stiles had been dying to know ever since he stepped onto the ship. “How did you end up here?”    
  
Mason snorted. “You mean, how come almost everyone on this ship is black?”

Stiles would have felt  embarrassed about being called out like that, but he was too curious to really back down. Besides, it was what he wanted to know anyways.   
  
“The Hale and Argent family trade more than just spices and cotton, you know. We don’t target every ship. We target their ships. Sometimes we take the goods, but mostly we take on slave ships. It’s why Peter and Chris are doing this.” Mason shrugged. “Most of us were taken back home when possible, or somewhere safe, but everyone you see here wanted to join them.”   
  
It was not the story that Stiles had expected. Clearly the trading companies had been downplaying the extent of the cargo being stolen, because there had been far less news about slaves being freed along the trading routes. He supposed that neither the Hale matriarch or the Argent families wanted to have the word spread that their own family was attacking their ships.   
  
“People aren’t cargo.”   
  
“Oh for god’s sake! Where a bell when you’re walking!” Stiles snapped once his heart stopped racing. Apparently Peter had popped up behind them on deck and decided to chime in on their conversation.   
  
“Why should I? This is my daily entertainment.” Peter chuckled. “Go get some sleep Mason, she’s still going steady and the night is clear.”

Apparently Mason didn’t need to be told twice, and he happily scrambled off to go get some well-earned rest before the morning called again. As a navigator the guy was allowed to sleep in, but on a busy ship, it was rather difficult to really get some shuteye once the daily work began.

   
“So is that why you became a pirate? Suddenly had enough?” Stiles questioned, staring at the other man, his eyes wandering down a split second to the tattoo of piracy burned on Peter’s wrist. The man had escaped, but that mark would always be there.   
  
“My sister doesn’t advertise that our main income is from transporting slaves. Most trading companies don’t. She was always raised to take over the business one day, and I was placed on the ships that contained spices and other goods. I was made captain of a slave ship two years after my sister took over. I’ve never been back again. Well, other than to tell her where to stick it. Chris has a slightly more romantic story. Apparently getting a daughter meant he could no longer deny the fact that he was raising her with blood money.” Peter snorted, leaning against the railing next to Stiles. “Now, what I’m more curious about, is why one of the best naval officers in the country suddenly decides he’s had enough.”   
  
“You know who I am? I wasn’t aware I had gained that much fame yet.” Stiles was actually rather surprised it had taken Peter this long to bring it up, if he had been aware since the beginning. “The king no longer needs me, and his advisor has tried to kill me on several occasions. I felt it was time to find a different navy to join.”   
  
“Really? You don’t particularly strike me as the ‘yes sir’ and ‘no, sir’ type.” Peter mused, making Stiles bristle.

  
“There is more to it than that. There is an honour in serving.” They fought for the crown, and protected the people after all.   
  
“There is no honour. You may fool yourself like that, but you are no more than the force the king uses to fight his petty squabbles and protect his money. Your naval fleet protects the slave trade. That’s your job.” Peter sneered back.  
  
“So what do you suggest I do then? Become a pirate with a bounty on my head?” Stiles shot back. “I want to go back into battle again. I paid for you to take me to a different port, not for career advice.” Stiles was already at the door, ready to go to the sleeping quarters, when Peter called after him.   
  
“You know, I actually thought you had a brain between those ears. It’s a pity, you would have made an excellent pirate if you had.”  With an angry huff, Stiles slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

  
  
He probably should not have wished to go back into battle though, as not even two days later they ran into the ship the crew had been waiting for.  Compared to the sloop ship that they were on, the cargo ship was definitely bigger. She was also heavy though, and clearly hard to swiftly change course. Compared to The Werewolf, she might as well have been rock in the ocean.  A heavily armed rock however.

Clearly Talia Hale had upgraded security on her ships, and while the canons did very little harm, the few canister shots that were fired did end up getting some of the musket balls far enough to actually hit the crew.  It didn’t stop them from sending out the grappling hooks and pushing the ships together. It did eliminate the threat of the canons for some part, because there was a huge chance they’d damage their own ship more in such close quarters.   
  
“What are you doing?” Peter snapped at him as he called out orders for Chris to relay down the crew below on deck who were trying to keep as much fire on the crew of the other ship so they wouldn’t get time to cut the ropes.   
  
“I’m joining in, obviously. I know how to fight Peter.” It was the one thing Stiles definitely knew how to do aboard a ship.   
  
“What happened to your naval dreams? I am not going to have you up there protecting that crew. They are filthy slave traders and I will have the captain’s head.” Peter clearly was dead serious about that.   
  
“I don’t like slave traders, so I am not going to stop you. I am however going to protect my investment. I paid you to take me to the next port. If we go down, I’m going down with this ship, remember.” Stiles had no issues with taking out slave traders right now, and he would be damned if he let Peter get on that ship without him.   
  
“Fine, just don’t get in my way.” The captain snarled, before grabbing his own sword off the table and strapping it in. There was something vicious and beautiful in watching that man use a rope to swing across onto the other deck where fighting had broken out with the crew that had crossed over. There were still quite a few on The Werewolf, who picked off people by gun fire. Chris Argent was an excellent marksman, even with how faulty guns could be. He had trained his team himself. They provided back-up and protected the ship against anyone who might think it was a good idea to jump ship.   
  
Following suit, Stiles brandished his own sword. The rush of adrenaline was a welcome reminder just how much he had loved fighting on sea. The ship was well manned, which didn’t surprise Stiles, but he was also well trained. He knocked people out where he could, but in the thick of battle his aim was survival and protecting his crew. If that meant killing, he wouldn’t hesitate.   
  
There was a harsh yell as he pushed one of his enemies overboard, but he didn’t wait to see if the man came up again for air, because apparently these people had been equipped with guns as well, and Stiles was staring down the barrel of one. He had left his own gun behind as shooting and refilling it took too much time in the middle of battle. There was a clicking noise, and then a gurgle as a sword ran the other man through. As the guy dropped down onto the deck, Peter was revealed, looking decidedly annoyed.   
  
“I told you not to be a bother. I thought you were here to watch my back.”   
  
“Can we have this conversation perhaps a little later?” Stiles groaned, reacting swiftly as another man came their way. “We have something a little more urgent to pay attention to, don’t we?”   
  
“I don’t know. I’m not feeling the strain yet. If you’re tired, I think the navy needs to rethink their hiring policies.” Peter yelled back, settling down at Stiles’ back as they fought the other crew.   
  
“I think you need to rethink your fighting strategies. I think your sister has been adding some security measures.”   
  
“Are you saying you think you can’t take them?” Peter taunted, jamming his sword between another man’s ribs, leaving it up to stiles to slit the throat of the guy who tried to attack Peter while his sword was still stuck in someone else.   


“I said no such thing, and I think we’re even now.”   
  
“Not by a long shot. Now instead of trying to prove you’re a halfway decent fighter, maybe you want to try and help me get to the captain?”   
  
“Aye, aye, captain!”   
  
Fighting alongside Peter was surprisingly easy. Stiles protected his back while the other man took out the people in his path. It made him wonder if Peter had any official training. He was definitely better than your average swordfighter. It was also a lot of fun, which wasn’t something Stiles should probably think about when killing people. Then again, they kind of had it coming. 

Once Peter took out the captain, the rest of the fighting crew was quite quick to surrender. They might be willing to fight for their money, but when tides turn, they definitely preferred their own lives. All the dead people were tossed overboard, unless they belonged to Peter’s crew. Stiles was glad to see their casualties were minimal, but there were still five lives lost. They would also be thrown into the sea, but they would get a proper ceremony, and their bodies would be weighed down with cannonballs, so they wouldn’t end up floating around somewhere. It wasn’t quite the same as being buried in a proper grave, but it was preferable to keeping the bodies on board and let them decay. For most of them, it would be a better burial ceremony than they would have had as slaves or as the poor on land.   
  
Once the deck was cleared, and the crew was secured, the rest of the ship was explored. Stiles thought he had known how bad the slave trade was, but it wasn’t until he came below deck that the reality of it hit him. There were about four hundred slaves on board in various states of emaciation and health. The smell was horrible, and the temperature was too high to ever be comfortable. In the end, he left it to Peter and his men to get them unchained and on deck, because he had to throw up. That feeling of sickness returned when Stiles saw how young some of them were once they were out on deck.   


Peter’s crew had people from various parts of Africa on their team, which meant that they could help explain what was happening to the ship and that they were going to be brought to a safe space. They didn’t have the option to bring them back to Africa at this point. They were too far away, and they didn’t have the food to bring them all back safely. The chance of being recaptured was also too big of a risk. They would be resettled down in south, where the European colonies had not quite gotten hold of the land yet. It was a bittersweet relief for the people, realising that while they might be spared some of the horrors that were still to come, they would never see their home again. 

* * *

 

Later that night, after the course had been changed and their dead had been given a proper goodbye, The Werewolf was sailing ahead of the ship they had just taken over. They would guide it along to their safe haven, with Chris and some of the crew staying on board to guide it. 

 

Stiles knocked on the door to Peter’s quarters a little while after he’d seen the captain retire. It takes a little longer than he expects for a reply to come, and after believing the man to be asleep he was almost ready to drop the issue for another day. It's then that Peter opens the door to let him in.   
  
“You said I would make a good pirate. I was wondering if that offer was still on the table?” Stiles questioned, deciding to just tell Peter upfront what he wanted.   
  
“That depends. Have you given up on your grand belief that the Navy is the best thing on the seas? Because we will encounter them out here. You will have to make a decision, because I will not have you turning your back on the crew the moment we attack someone you might feel pity for.” Peter countered, being dead serious for a change.  
  
“I still think that most of those in the navy believe what they’re doing is right. I will not shoot to kill unless I have to.” Stiles wouldn’t be able to shoot at them without good reason. “However, what I saw today…I can’t ignore that. I will also not let the crew down. They’re good people.” Stiles would even consider them his friends to an extent. Chris treated him more like a kid than a friend, and Peter…well, Stiles had some seriously not suitable for friends thoughts about that man.   
  
“Then I suppose we should keep you on board.” Peter sounded incredibly put on about it, but Stiles could tell he was at least pleased about it.   
  
“Good. By the way, you didn’t actually kill the last guy who had my job, did you?” Somehow he couldn’t believe it after spending so much time with the crew. Peter picked the people that joined the crew as carefully as he selected his weapons. He doubted anyone would ever try to stab the man in the back when still being in close enough quarters to get killed for it. If Peter didn't do it, the rest of the crew would.    
  
“No, you idiot. He’s currently happily married and having his wife pop out babies probably.” Peter scoffed, looking at Stiles as if he was suddenly doubting his choice of letting him stay on board.   
“It was a fair question!” Stiles argued, feeling a little like a scolded kid. “I think I’m going to get some sleep. You give me a headache.”   
  
“Goodnight, Stiles.” The middle finger Stiles gave him in return for that cheery comment was only met with laughter. 

* * *

 

“You know, it would do all of us a huge favour if you could just sleep with him.”

Stiles stared up at Chris in surprise, before flushing red when the words really hit him. He could deny it, but obviously Christ had just caught him while ogling Peter as he trained the newest crewmembers. Without a shirt on. Glistening with sweat and the spray of the ocean sea.   
  
“Yes, because that would go terrifically. It’s kind of hard to actually avoid the person you’ve slept with when you’re on a ship together.” Stiles argued, feeling a little like he was having this conversation with his father.  Despite being an adult, after nearly a year on the ship, Chris had become more of a father figure to him than a fellow crewmember. It probably helped that the man was in fact old enough to be his dad, and probably missed his daughter terribly. Chris was the kind of dad that would let you trip over your own feet, smack your face into the deck, and then tell you you should tie your shoelaces though.   
  
“Who says you need to avoid him afterwards?” Chris shrugged. “Honestly, you two have been circling around one another ever since you came on board, and everyone is getting rather sick of it. If your sexual tension was edible, we didn’t have to bring any food on board ever.”  
  
Stiles groaned. “Peter doesn’t do anything steady, you know that. Every port we call, he ends up at the nearest whorehouse to drink and fuck. That’s about the closest he comes to romantic attachments as far as I know.”   
  
“Stiles, I’ve gone along with Peter ever time, and he spends the first two hours moaning about how frustrating you are, and then he finds the nearest pale skinned brunette to sleep with.” The older man scoffed. “Fuck him soon, or we’re going to lock you in his chambers until you do.”   
  
“Ah..but…fine.” Stiles huffed, pushing himself off of the railing, marching himself down the stairs and onto the deck, poking Peter in the chest. “Chris says we should fuck.”   


“Is that so?” Peter purred, throwing Chris a look. “Well, if the quartermaster tells us to do something, I suppose we can’t really say no, now can we?”   
  
“I’m inclined to agree. So how about you leave the training up to the quartermaster, so we can follow orders?” Stiles shrugged, before giving a yelp as he was tossed over Peter’s shoulder. Their route to the man’s private chambers was only halted as Peter stopped to talk to a smug Chris.   
  
“You’re the captain for the next couple of hours…day” He corrected as Stiles pinched his side. “Don’t let anyone disturb us.”   
  
“Aye, aye, Captain.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Deaton is a black man, and would hardly be in the position of advisor (but for the sake of the story I am going to overlook that titbit).


End file.
